Par les portes d'Orkenise
Veut entrer un charretier.
Par les portes d'Orkenise
Veut sortir un va-nu-pieds.
Et les gardes de la ville
Courant sus au va-nu-pieds:
<_Qu'emportes-tu de la ville?>
<_J'y laisse mon cœur entier.>
Et les gardes de la ville
Courant sus au charretier:
<Qu'apportes-tu dans la ville?>
<Mon cœur pour me marier.>
Que de cœurs, dans Orkenise!
Les gardes riaient, riaient,
Va-nu-pieds la route est grise,
L'amour grise, ô charretier.
Les beaux gardes de la ville
Tricotaient superbement;2
Puis les portes de la ville
Se fermèrent lentement.
Ma chambre a la forme d'une cage
Le soleil passe son bras par la fenêtre
Mais moi qui veut fumer pour faire des mirages
J'allume au feu du jour ma cigarette
Je ne veux pas travailler je veux fumer
Tant de tristesses plénières
Prirent mon cœur aux fagnes désolées
Quand las j'ai reposé dans les sapinières
Le poids des kilomètres pendant que râlait
Le vent d'ouest
J'avais quitté le joli bois
Les écureuils y sont restés
Ma pipe essayait de faire des nuages
Au ciel
Qui restait pur obstinément
Je n'ai confié aucun secret sinon une chanson énigmatique
Aux tourbières humides
Les bruyères fleurant le miel
Attiraient les abeilles
Et mes pieds endoloris
Foulaient les myrtilles et les airelles
Tendrement mariée
Nord
Nord
La vie s'y tord
En arbres forts
Et tors
La vie y mord
La mort
A belles dents
Quand bruit le vent
Ah! la charmante chose
Quitter un pays morose
Pour Paris
Paris joli
Qu'un jour
Dut créer l'Amour
Ah! la charmante chose
Quitter un pays morose
Pour Paris
Notre amour est réglé par les calmes étoiles
Or nous savons qu'en nous beaucoup d'hommes respirent
Qui vinrent de très loin et sont un sous nos fronts
C'est la chanson des rêveurs
Qui s'étaient arraché le cœur
Et le portaient dans la main droite
Souvient-t'en cher orgeuil de tous ces souvenirs
Des marins qui chantaient comme des conquérants
Des gouffres de Thulé des tendres cieux d'Ophir4
Des malades maudits de ceux qui fuient leur ombre
Et du retour joyeux des heureux émigrants
De ce cœur il coulait du sang
Et le rêveur allait pensant
A sa blessure délicate
Tu ne briseras pas la chaine de ces causes
Et douloureuse et nous disait
Qui sont les effets d'autres causes
Mon pauvre cœur mon cœur brisé
Pareil au cœur de tous les hommes
Voici voici nos mains que la vie fit esclaves
Est mort d'amour ou c'est tout comme
Est mort d'amour et le voici
Ainsi vont toutes choses
Arrachez donc le vôtre aussi
Et rien ne sera libre jusqu'à la fin du temps
Laissons tout aux morts
Et cachons nos sanglots
1This poem is taken from a strange prose text entitled "Onirocritique" where it is presented as a farmer's working song.
2Tricoter here has the meaning "being incompetent", as "tying knots" might in English.
3The poem has 8-syllable lines and indented sections mainly of alexandrines (12-sylable lines). It is in effect two poems interleaved, each relating to the other.
4Thule is a legendary island somewhere north of Scotland on the edge of the world. Ophir is an unidentified territory mentioned in the Old Testament (1 Kings 10, 11) and famous for its fine gold.
Through the gates of Orkenise
a wagon driver wants to enter.
Through the gates of Orkenise
a tramp wants to leave.
And the guards of the town
running up to the tramp:
"What do you carry away from the town?"
"I leave my whole heart behind".
And the guards of the town
running up to the wagon driver:
"What do you bring into the town?"
"My heart with which to get married."
So many hearts in Orkenise!
the guards laughed, laughed,
Tramp the road is grey,
love intoxicates, o wagon driver.
The handsome town guards
were knitting superbly;
then the doors of the town
slowly closed.
My room is in the shape of a cage
the sun stretches its arm through the window
but I who want to smoke to make fleeting patterns
I light my cigarette at the flame of day
I don't want to work I want to smoke
So much utter sadness
took hold of my heart in the desolate moorlands
when weary I rested the weight of the kilometres
in the fir-plantations while
the west wind raged
I had left the pretty wood
the squirrels stayed there
my pipe tried to make clouds
in the sky
which remained obstinately pure
I have not confided a single secret besides an enigmatic song
to the damp peat-bogs
the heather perfumed with honey
attracted the bees
and my aching feet
trampled the bilberries and the blaeberries
tenderly united
north
north
life twists itself there
into trees strong
and twisted
there life bites
death
hungrily
when the wind howls
Ah! Such a charming thing
to leave a drab country
for Paris
lovely Paris
that Love must once
have created
ah! Such a charming thing
to leave a drab country
for Paris
Our love is governed by the calm stars
now we know that within us many men breathe
who came from very far and are one beneath our brows
This is the song of the dreamers
who had torn out their heart
and carried it in the right hand
remember dear pride all these memories
of the sailors who sang like conquerors
of the chasms of Thule of the gentle skies of Ophir
of the damned sick of those who flee from their shadow4
and of the joyous homecoming of the happy emigrants
from this heart there ran blood
and the dreamer went on thinking
about his wound tender
you will never shatter the chain of these events
and painful and said to us
which are the results of other causes
my poor heart my shattered heart
identical to the heart of all men
here here are our hands that life made slaves
has died of love or so it seems
has died of love and here it is
thus is the way of all things
so tear out your own also
and nothing will have its freedom until the end of time
let us leave all to the dead
and hide our sobs
© translated by Christopher Goldsack
Please be aware that some of the original French texts on this site are still in copyright. The translations are offered here for study purposes.
Students and not-for-profit events are always welcome to use the transaltions for their programmes free of charge. I am however glad to be told when they are being used! Send me an email and do share the site with friends and colleagues! If seeking to use them for commercial purposes please also consider making a small donation towards the upkeep of the site:
© 2020 The Mélodie Treasury